Flirtasaurus

by Erin Mallon

  I’m so friggin’ psyched at that moment that I surprise straddle jump my boyfriend—boyfriend, doesn’t that sound nice?—and kiss the hell out of him.

  “Wow!” Lou laughs. “I can’t tell if you’re super into prehistory, or super into my brother!”

  “Both,” I say as I hop down. “Definitely both.”

  “Calliope is a paleontologist,” Ralph explains. “We met at the museum.”

  “Oh, wow, then you’re going to love this!” Lou says with a bright smile. “Let’s get you some tools and get started.”

  Two hours later, we are deep into our dig. This place is a total dream. Scientists and students like Lou are here doing official studies, but the quarry is also open to the public for civilian digs. That’s what Ralph and I are today… civilians. We’re not working. We’re not concerned with impressing any of our higher-ups. We’re just digging and exploring for the sake of it. For fun. And the best part? You can keep whatever you find!

  Ralph just headed to the snack tent to get us some provisions.

  “Thank you for encouraging him to call me,” Lou says when Ralph is out of earshot.

  “Is that what he told you? That I encouraged him to call?”

  “No. I guess I just assumed. He hasn’t spoken to me in over a year, then you come into his life and boom! I have my brother back.”

  “A year?”

  “Yeah. It’s been rough.”

  “What would make him stop speaking to you for a year? Sorry. Not my business. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No, it’s fine. Ralph is the most giving, selfless person I know...”

  “Yeah, I’ve picked up on that,” I say with a smile.

  We both watch Ralph from a distance where he’s gathering bottles of water for us from the snack tent, chatting and smiling with someone who works here.

  “But,” Lou admits a bit sadly, “he can be pushed too far.”

  I stay quiet and let her continue. I want to learn as much as I can from her before Ralph returns. Is that bad? Sneaky? I don’t know. But I’m hooked.

  “When our dad left, Ralph became my mom’s de facto life partner in a lot of ways. I remember her calling him the little man of the house. I think he hated it, but I also think he got used to it. Took pride in it even. Our mom…” Lou seems to be searching for the words. “…wasn’t always in the best state of mind. She depended on him for a lot. Too much if you ask me. He babysat me, made my lunches, and took me to music and dance classes. Took me to my father-daughter dances when my dad inevitably disappointed me and didn’t show up each year. He even chose a local college and then deferred grad school until I was eighteen so he could be around for me.”

  “Wow,” I exhale.

  “Yeah. He’s the absolute best.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “About a year or so ago, he came out to visit me in California and met the guy I was dating, who let’s just say, wasn’t so good to me. I couldn’t see it then, though. Or… I guess I saw it but didn’t want to admit it? Ralph lost it and punched him.”

  “You’re kidding me. Ralph?”

  “Beat him up pretty badly, actually.”

  “Oh my God.”

  I look up and see Ralph paying the cashier.

  “Yeah. He protects the people he loves. Big time. I just worry sometimes that no one has ever looked out for him. No one protects him. Including me. The worst part of that whole mess was that I… I took my boyfriend’s side and I said some pretty awful things to Ralph. Told him to stay out of my life and get a life of his own. He left the next morning and hasn’t spoken to me since. Until this morning. So thank you.” Lou’s eyes fill with happy tears. “So much.”

  “Oh, I really don’t think it’s me you need to thank. Ralph is—”

  “Ralph is what?”

  Ralph is standing beside us with three bottles of ice cold water. He distributes them among us as Lou sneakily wipes away a rogue tear.

  “Awesome,” I say. “Ralph is awesome.”

  He leans down and gives me a kiss.

  “Hey, check out my ammonite!” I show him my latest uncovered treasure. “Won’t this look great in my grandma’s hutch?”

  “Hell yeah, it will. Hey, Lou. I hate to say this, but we need to start heading back. We have an important meeting this afternoon back at the museum.”

  “No problem,” Lou says as she stands and brushes the dust off her pants. “I am just so… God! Relieved? Happy? Thrilled? All of the above and just really… grateful to see my brother again.”

  “Me too, girl. Me too,” he says as he hugs her tight.

  “Maybe we can catch a drink soon while I’m still here?” she asks hopefully as she pulls back. “I’d love to hop the megabus into Philly, see your place, check out the museum…”

  “Absolutely,” he says. “But no sister of mine is taking the megabus. I’ll come pick you up. Megabus is a tin tube of despair with—”

  “Alright, alright, don’t get him started.” I laugh. “It was awesome getting to know you, Lou. See you again soon, I hope?”

  “Definitely,” she says. “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  On Mondays, the museum is closed to patrons but open to staff for meetings, training, and exhibit building. Today, we have a museum-wide gathering of the staff to discuss all the particulars for the upcoming gala.

  “I can’t believe the gala is in less than two weeks!” I say to Ralph as we walk down the street hand in hand.

  “Excited?”

  “I’m pumped, yeah! Oh, and get this… I, uh, I called my mom when I was getting cleaned up back at my apartment. She accepted my apology. Look at your face!”

  “Am I making a face?” he asks with faux innocence.

  “Yes, you are. That’s right, wise guy, I apologized.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “Yeah, they’re actually going to come to the gala and spend the night at a fancy Philly hotel afterward. Best of luck to their neighbors! We’re hoping to have some mother-daughter time the next morning.”

  “That’s really great, Calliope. I’m proud of you.”

  “Eh, whatever,” I say as I swat him on the shoulder. But it really does feel good to make him proud. Not to mention opening the doors for better communication with my family. That feels like such a relief. I guess I didn’t realize how much that tension had been weighing on me.

  As we approach the block where the museum is located, I drop his hand.

  He looks like he would have continued holding on right through the revolving doors.

  “You know,” he says gently, “we could talk to Dr. Knowles and Dr. Abrams. Tell them about us.”

  “We could…” I say hesitantly. “I just don’t want to jeopardize all the progress I’ve made with her.”

  “There’s nothing in our contracts saying we can’t date someone on staff.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “And she told you herself that she wanted to see you being more friendly with your co-workers,” he says with a smirk.

  “Yeah, somehow, I don’t think she meant the kind of friendly that you and I have been exploring lately.”

  “Oh, no? Not this kind of friendly?” he says, then pulls me in for a kiss, molding me to his body with both hands on my ass.

  “Will you stop!” I say, giggling. I push him away good-naturedly.

  “Just think about it, will you?” He looks deep into my eyes. “Maybe we don’t need to keep sneaking around.”

  “Okay.” I sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

  He takes my hand to his lips for one quick kiss to my knuckles. Then with our arms at our sides like the professionals we are, we walk up the steps and into the museum.

  The meeting is being held in Trix and Monty’s exhibit hall, where the gala will be taking place. When we enter
the room—several feet apart, until I figure out how to address this with Dr. Knowles—the place is hopping. Lots of scientists and educators and administrators milling about, chatting with colleagues.

  Then I spot her and move in her direction. What the hell is she doing here?

  “Sasha?” I say with no small amount of confusion in my voice.

  “Hey, girlfriend!” she says like it’s perfectly normal for her to be here at my place of employment for a staff meeting.

  “What are you doing here?” I hush.

  “Just checking up on my girl, making sure she’s behaving.”

  “What?”

  “Kidding. I wanted to surprise you! Spencer’s Spirits scored the liquor contract for the gala this year. So I’m here representing ole daddio. This means we’ll get to party together at the gala!”

  “Oh, that’s amazing! How cool!”

  Ralph saunters up beside us and smiles, clearly waiting for an introduction.

  “OhmyGod, is this Alf!?” Sasha squeals a bit too loudly for my comfort level.

  “Haha,” he chuckles. “It’s Ralph, actually.”

  “I know, I know, but old habits die hard. Can we hug? I’m a hugger,” Sasha gushes.

  “Sure, I don’t mind a hug.” He smiles.

  “Oh damn, you weren’t kidding,” she says once she wraps her arms around him. “What a stud.”

  “Ralph, this is my best friend, Sasha. Sasha, this is… Ralph.”

  “Nice to meet you, big guy,” Sasha says.

  Ralph laughs. “You too, Sasha.”

  She’s still clinging to him.

  “Alright, girlfriend. Keep it together now,” I say as I jokingly guide them apart.

  “Ladies and gentlemen? We’re about to begin.”

  Looking up, I see Dr. Knowles standing in the front of the room with several of the other higher-ups, including Ralph’s astronomy mentor, Dr. Abrams.

  “Let’s, um,” I whisper to Sasha, “let’s just pull over to this side, okay?”

  I drag Sasha and me a few feet away from Ralph in an effort to seem cool and unaffected by him in front of my superiors. It’s overkill, I know, but I want to tell them in my own way instead of them finding out on their own and thinking I was keeping things from them, which—let’s be real—I have been.

  I look over at Ralph, and he just shakes his head and smiles good-naturedly, like he thinks I’m being ridiculous. He’s right. I am.

  Dr. Knowles continues. “Thank you to everyone for assembling here today and for all you’ve already done to make our gala a huge success. In particular, and perhaps a bit selfishly, I’d like to specifically thank my Trix and Monty team. It’s been an incredible ride so far, and I cannot wait to share our two beauties with the world.”

  Bruce, Damon, and Lionel are all standing close by, and we share a quick smile. Those dudes have really grown on me. Even Bruce. Well, a little. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here.

  “We have many topics to cover today, but we’ll try to get things wrapped up as soon as possible so you can enjoy the rest of your afternoon and evening. We have a representative from each department who will take focus for a few minutes to get us all on the same page regarding protocol for next Saturday night. First up is Mr. Frank Birch from security. Mr. Birch, could you join us in the front of the room?”

  “Sure thing, Eileen!” A tiny bald man with a semblance of a handlebar mustache trots up in front of the assembled group.

  “Hi, y'all!” he says cheerily. “I’m not from the South. Don’t quite know why I slip into y'alls sometimes. Not a big fan of public speaking, I guess. Makes me a little nervous, I suppose. Did you know that fear of public speaking is right up there with death and closed spaces and killer bugs when it comes to the most common phobias we humans have? But why should we be so afraid to speak our minds in front of our fellow Homo sapiens, huh? To expose what makes us vulnerable and the same? Don’t you wish we could come together more in some sorta, I dunno, harmony? I mean, we’re so divided these days, and—”

  “Mr. Birch, I was told you have an update on our new security system?”

  “Oh, yes, sure. Sorry. I felt like this was my moment to use my platform for good. You know, like how all those liberal Hollywood actors always seem to be doing at award shows?”

  “I see. Well, maybe now actually isn’t the best time for that,” she says kindly.

  “Alright, then. No harm, no foul. So. Everybody, listen up! As I think you all know, those two deeno skeletons over there cost this museum a pretty penny, and there was a not too friendly bidding war at the ole auction on the road to bringing ’em here. That said, we needed to take additional measures to ensure their security and the security of the museum, both leading up to the gala and on the night of the big event.”

  Sasha gives me a look like this is the most boring staff meeting she’s ever attended. I can’t argue with her on that. I’m about to nod off myself, though, little do both of us know that it’s about to get a hell of a lot more lively.

  “So! We installed some security cameras in this here new wing on Friday night, and we were doing some sporadic preliminary tests throughout the weekend. If you look right above us here, you see that flat little square on the ceiling?”

  The entire group looks up. It must be time to get my eyes checked, though, because I don’t see a darn thing.

  “You see it there? Blends in with the ceiling a bit? Well, anyway, that’s some state of the art shit right there. Excuse me. That’s some state of the art crap right there. That little guy does the work of ten lesser cameras. It’s shooting in every angle imaginable right now. So, on the night of the gala, we won’t have to worry too much about folks wanting to do harm to ole Dicks and Mounty here.”

  “It's, uh… It’s Trix and Monty, Mr. Birch,” Dr. Knowles gently corrects.

  “Ah, alright. Ole Trix and Monty. Just to give you all some peace of mind, I wanna take a minute to show ya a live cam of what’s being recorded right now. Get ready… it’s your thirty seconds of fame, friends!”

  He presses a button and a huge image projects on the bright white walls. It’s blurry, though, so it’s hard to tell what we’re looking at.

  “Arh. Still working out the kinks. Lemme get this thing focused, and we’ll see what we’re—”

  “Ohhhh.”

  What the hell was that? Was that a moan?

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Now the sound of a guy panting?

  “Oh, dammit to hell, this ain’t the live cam,” Mr. Birch complains. “Seems it’s like some of our test security footage from the weekend.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  The sounds continue to come through the room’s speakers. The sounds of a man and woman engaged in something very… adult.

  Oh, Jesus Christ, I think my heart just stopped.

  Everyone in the room starts looking around, wondering what the hell is happening.

  Everyone, that is, except for Mr. Birch, who seems to be oblivious to the sounds as he fiddles with the buttons on his remote to no avail. I sneak a glance at Ralph out of the corner of my eye, and his face looks as white as a sheet. His mouth is hanging slightly open, and I’m pretty sure he’s no longer breathing. I don’t remember the last time I inhaled either.

  “Ah! Here’s how you focus the damn thing!”

  Mr. Birch finally presses the right button, and the image becomes clear. Earth-shatteringly, life-shatteringly clear. Two completely unclothed bodies are gyrating in the ancient primal dance of… well, you know. You can only see the girl’s back, but the guy? You can see the guy’s face plain as day.

  And that’s when I hear it. My ecstatic voice saying…

  “Ohhh. Ralph! Give it to me, Ralph, yes!”

&nb
sp; “Hole-eeee shiiiiit…” Bruce exhales, from a few feet away.

  “Girlfriend!” Sasha hisses out of the corner of her mouth. “I thought we agreed that we were eliminating the whole ‘give it to me’ phrase from your sexvernacular.”

  “Really!? That’s what you have to say to me right now?” I whisper yell at her.

  “Of course not. I also want to say you look hot as hell, lady. Seriously, look at you go!”

  She watches the projection and shakes her head in wondrous appreciation.

  This is a nightmare. This is a fucking nightmare. And it just keeps going.

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Also,” Sasha continues close to my ear, “reverse cowgirl in a public place? Wow. Even I wouldn’t go there. Major props to you, lover.”

  She lifts her hand for a subtle high five, but I’m too stunned to respond.

  “Can someone please help Mr. Birch shut this off?” Dr. Knowles booms, not the least bit impressed.

  “I’m on it!” Bruce comes to the rescue and takes the remote-control device from Mr. Birch, who has become fully enraptured with what he’s seeing and hearing on the projection, his head tilted to the side like a Labrador puppy. “IATSE workers are not only trained in the art of stagecraft and lighting, but we are constantly increasing our knowledge of the latest technologies, so this should be a breeze. Let me see here, just a little bit of this…”

  He fiddles with some buttons.

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “A little bit of that…”

  Bruce fiddles some more.

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Ohhhh.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “And… we’re out.”

  The image on the wall cuts out. As do the sounds, thank the sweet lord above.

  But I have to say? The deafening silence that ensues is actually ten times worse than my sex noises playing in surround sound for the entire staff of the museum to hear. Hard to believe, I know, but it’s true.